The compound was too quiet.
Luciano noticed it the second he stepped out of the car.
No laughter from the kitchens. No sparring in the courtyard. Just tension—coiled and waiting, like something was about to snap.
He moved through the halls like a shadow, brushing off the guards who followed, his mind already three steps ahead. Someone had leaked the London codes. His enemies were testing his borders. And someone in his own circle had tried—tried—to get to Amethyst while he was gone.
That part, he hadn't told her.
Not yet.
Not when she already seemed... distant.
He noticed it in the way she avoided his gaze during breakfast. In the way her hands lingered on her stomach like she was cradling something fragile. In the way she had started locking the bathroom door.
She was hiding something.
And Luciano Valeri didn't tolerate secrets.
—
Upstairs, Amethyst sat at her vanity, combing through documents—ledgers, reports, everything she could get her hands on. The more she learned, the more she saw the cracks in Luciano's empire. Weaknesses. Patterns. Threats.
But the biggest threat right now was inside her.
She felt it in the way her heart raced when he looked at her. The nausea that wouldn't leave. The fear that she wouldn't survive this version of love.
She opened the drawer to grab a pen—then froze.
The pregnancy test.
She thought she had burned them all.
Her pulse roared. She snatched it up—just as footsteps approached behind her.
The door opened.
Luciano.
She shoved the test back in—but his eyes had already caught the movement.
He moved with quiet precision, like a predator who had already decided the outcome.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Nothing," she replied, too fast.
Luciano walked to the vanity. Reached into the drawer.
Her stomach dropped.
He pulled it out.
Held it up.
Silence.
Two pink lines stared back at them both.
He didn't speak. Didn't move. His jaw locked, his breath sharp—but his eyes… his eyes were unreadable.
Amethyst stood. "Luciano—"
"How long have you known?" he said, voice low. Controlled. Dangerous.
"A week."
He laughed once, cold and bitter. "A week."
"I wasn't sure how you'd take it."
"And hiding it from me was the safer option?" He turned, eyes burning. "You thought I'd hurt you?"
"No," she whispered. "I thought you wouldn't want it."
Luciano stepped closer. Slowly. Carefully.
"I've killed men for touching you," he said. "Do you think I would let anything happen to what we made?"
Her throat tightened. "I didn't know if you would want this kind of weakness."
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then reached out—gently—placing a hand on her stomach.
And for the first time since she met him… she saw his eyes soften.
"It's not weakness," he said quietly. "It's war in its purest form. You're building something no enemy can ever destroy."
She swallowed, breath shaky. "So… you're not angry?"
"I'm furious," he said. "That you didn't trust me. That you were scared. That I didn't see it first."
She looked down. "I was going to tell you."
"When?"
"When I wasn't terrified," she admitted.
Luciano pulled her into his chest, wrapping her in an embrace that was more armor than comfort.
"From this point forward," he said into her hair, "no one touches you. No one gets close. This child is blood. My blood.And I will set the world on fire to keep it safe."
Amethyst pressed her face into his chest, finally letting the fear go.